They came into the world so differently. He, cautiously, slowly, thoughtfully, on a hot blue moon. She, fast, courageous, fist-first, on a freezing January dawn.
I can remember with dazzling clarity the moment I looked into each new face, the instant I fell in love. That beautiful chin, those perfect lips, baby hair, new skin, tiny hands and all ten toes. Each…mine. But oh, so not not mine. Never really mine.
The hope of tomorrows is not a promise. I promised instead that you were His, come what may. He loaned you to me, I gave you in covenant to Him , and then we lived that out.
Thank you, my babies, for teaching me to be a mommy. For birthing in me a new love that didn’t exist before you. For selfless love, as I learned of your needs. For fun and silly, as we played pretend. For wise love, as I learned to make hard decisions for your good.
For devotion and loyalty, as I cheered you and clapped as you sang and competed. For patient love, as you grew and became your own. And for bittersweet love, that hurts, but caused me to look to God, as you pulled away and grew up.
That scared feeling when the nurse placed you in my arms and said I could take you home is beyond description.
Someone said “It’s ok. They teach you how to do this”. Who will teach me?
You did. You did with each moment. We learned together. You as the child. Me as your mom.